


The Storm

by jonsasnow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Jon Is Not Related, Modern AU, Tumblr Prompts, just some fluffy fluffiness, lalalala idk what to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9377591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonsasnow/pseuds/jonsasnow
Summary: With Lady missing out in a storm, Sansa has no choice but to turn to her brother's best friend for help. Even if she doesn't like him whatsoever. Even if his presence brings her more comfort than she'd care to admit.Alternative Summary: Jon helps Sansa look for Lady in a storm, while the rest of the Starks are away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because I clearly don't do any work at work, here's another JonSa one shot! 
> 
> Thank you to beyondmythought-s for the prompt! 
> 
> If you guys fancy sending me more prompts, just go to my tumblr: thebluespiritrises 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! x

The storm came at a quarter to ten. It rocked the windows of the two-storey house and lights flickered in nonsensical patterns. Sansa sat alone in the den. She had been in the middle of binge-watching Westworld when everything went dark. For a few seconds, Sansa listened to the storm raging outside. It rained a lot in Scotland – more so than it did anything else – but storms weren’t as common. The last time it rained this badly the roof had collapsed in on the nearby post office. People were without power for days and it had even flooded in parts of the city. Sansa was living down south then but her parents had texted her consistently to make sure she was alright in London. Of course it had rained in London too but nowhere near as badly as the north.   


But Sansa was home this time – and alone too. Her parents were at a party, and with the storm as it was, Sansa didn’t think they’d be home any time soon. It was more than likely they’d just crash at the Mormont’s, which they had been known to do in the past but that had been due to excessive drinking. Robb was away on holiday; Arya and Bran were still at university. Only Rickon was actually in Edinburgh but he was staying the night at a friend’s. That left Sansa and all their dogs.

Something crashed from down in the basement that had her frowning. Sansa, the dogs and _Jon_. She didn’t know why he was here. He wasn’t even family, but that was hardly a valid reason anymore. From the day Jon’s mother died when he was sixteen, Eddard and Catelyn Stark had all but adopted him into their home. As Robb’s best friend and with no other living relative, Sansa was not so unfeeling as to begrudge Jon for living with them, but it didn’t mean she liked him any more than she had before. He was still stupid, boring, grumpy Jon. Only now, he was stupid, boring, grumpy Jon that lived in _her_  house. 

Quiet click-clacking on the wooden floorboards announced the arrival of the Stark family dogs in quick succession. First came Shaggydog, Nymeria, Grey Wind, Ghost and then Summer. Sansa sat up straighter and waited. There were no further sounds of click-clacking. It was eerily silent once the five dogs had settled down on the carpet. Sansa craned her neck to peer down the darkened corridor. “Lady?” she called but there was no answering woof. Panic began to slide coldly down her throat. “Lady!” she called out louder this time, and quickly stood up. Again, no answer. 

The next ten minutes was spent searching frantically from room to room. When she reached the back of the house, Sansa shivered. A cold gust of wind whipped towards her, chilling her through her thick hoodie and sweat bottoms. Someone had left the backdoor open and that meant… 

Sansa turned quickly and raced down to the basement – the one room she _hadn’t_  looked in yet. She knocked furiously on the door. “Jon! Jon!” She could hear the hysteria in her voice, and while normally Sansa remained as controlled of her emotions as was possible around Jon, occasionally she slipped up. Once, during Christmas holidays when she was fifteen and Robb and him seventeen, and they had come home drunk and broken her favourite pair of heels. She had screamed bloody murder then but this hysteria was different. 

The door pulled back to reveal a tall, broad man in his early twenties with a scruffy beard and shaggy long hair. His face was shadowed by the only source of light from inside his room: an open laptop. “Sansa, what’s wrong?”  

“Lady! She’s… Is she in there?” From the confused look on Jon’s face, her heart plummeted to the soles of her feet. “She’s gone! The backdoor was open and… and it’s raining out, and what if she can’t find her way home? What if she’s hurt!”   


Abruptly, two strong hands gripped her shoulders and Jon’s face was now level to hers. From this proximity, she could see flecks of violet in the irises of his grey eyes, but that was probably the dim lighting playing tricks on her. “Sans, Lady is a smart dog. She’ll be okay.” 

“What if she’s not, Jon?” Sansa hated the whining tone her voice took but the bond she shared with her dog meant more to her than any pair of heels, any stupid party, any dumb boy that had come and gone in her life. 

Jon must’ve realised this when he went back into his room and grabbed a parka from a hook. He glanced back at Sansa then grabbed another parka. “Wear this,” he commanded, and she did so wordlessly, following him back up the stairs. Jon placed a hand on her shoulder in a motion for her to stay and disappeared into a storage cupboard. When he came out, he was holding two torches. Sansa couldn’t help wondering then if Jon had always been so calm and collected in crises or if he had to learn it when his mother died.   


“Sansa…” Jon stopped in front of the door to the back garden that led out into a wide field fenced in by thick trees. She looked up into his eyes and noticed how serious they were. Jon was always serious, that was one of the reasons why she had never liked him, but underneath it, she also saw concern. Was that for her? Or for Lady? She couldn’t imagine it’d be for her but then he had to go and say, “stay close.”   


Under any other circumstances, Sansa might have retorted with something scathing but she only nodded today. It was all she could do to keep her limbs from trembling, half from the cold and half from fear. Within five minutes of being out in the rain, drenched thoroughly through in spite of Jon’s parka, it became mostly from the cold. It settled over her like the unpleasant feeling of walking with wet socks, only everything was wet and Sansa could barely see beyond her fingers. Fat droplets fell from the sky so rapidly no amount of blinking could clear them from her vision. The wind bit into her cheeks like thousands of tiny little bugs nipping into her skin. 

Wordlessly, as if he had sensed her discomfort and impaired vision, Jon’s hand wrapped tightly around hers. She started, confused by the action and even more confused by how _nice_  it felt, but didn’t comment. They walked across the field to the edge of the trees. A moment passed as Jon seemed to contemplate whether to trek through a dark wet forest before he was pulling her forward again. She shuffled closer and gripped his arm with her free hand, hoping to gain something, _anything_ , from his body heat. If he was surprised by the intimacy, Jon didn’t say anything. 

They walked for what felt like hours to Sansa but was probably only thirty minutes. Her voice was raw from calling out for Lady and her trembling had only gotten worse. Fear had quickly given way to outright panic and Sansa tore herself away from Jon in a half-crazed run. She screamed for Lady, the tears falling down her cheeks thankfully hidden by the rain. 

Sansa cupped her hands around her lips, readying to shout again, when she was suddenly slammed into a tree. A half a second later, a tree branch groaned from above and fell where she had just stood. Sansa blinked, gasping, as she looked at Jon. He was breathing hard, his body heaving up and down against hers, as he kept her pressed against the tree. There was a point of throbbing pain at the base of her skull where it had met the tree but she wasn’t as aware of it as she was of Jon. Every ridged line of his body, every twitch of his muscle as he stayed flushed against her. Sansa opened her mouth to say something, maybe to tell him to get off of her, maybe to thank him, but she didn’t get a chance to even think of a response before his lips captured hers roughly. It wasn’t slow or lethargic or unfeeling as she had once thought a kiss from Jon would be; it was desperate and intense, almost painful. What surprised her even more was how Sansa responded to him – just as painfully, as desperately, as passionately as if they would die tomorrow if they didn’t.   


When Jon pulled away, Sansa was embarrassed to hear the moan of displeasure leaving her lips. Her cheeks burned as she noticed the hint of a smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why did you?”  


Jon leaned his forehead to hers and sighed. “Because I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to.” Sansa’s ensuing silence spurred him to continue on. “When I saw that branch start to break, for that split second, I thought it’d hit you. I thought of course it’d be my luck that I’d lose you before I even got a chance to have you.” He paused, startled by his own admission, and took a step back. “I… I don’t mean I have you now. You’re not anyone’s to have. I just…” 

Before Jon could finish his sentence, Lady came racing through the trees towards them. She jumped at Sansa and barked happily. Sansa returned her enthusiasm by placing kisses all over the dog’s head. “Don’t you ever do that again, Lady!” she admonished but the dog only whinnied in response. 

This time, Sansa led them back. The lights had turned back on in the neighbourhood and she could see her house clearly through the darkness. Even the rain had started to let up now. 

Once safely inside, Sansa peeled the parka from her body and tossed it in a heap on the ground. Lady bounded down the corridor, trailing mud and shaking droplets of water everywhere. Sansa could deal with the mess in the morning. She was too tired now, and more importantly, she had something else to take care of. 

“Jon?” Sansa turned back to face him. He was running his hands through his hair and shaking his head much in the same way Lady had been. Sansa reached forward and stilled his hands. His eyes widened in surprise and she smiled. “How long have you fancied me?”   


“Longer than appropriate,” Jon answered easily with a soft chuckle. She gave him an inquisitive look, so he elaborated. “You’re Robb’s sister. Nedd and Catelyn’s daughter. I can’t take advantage of you like that.”   


Sansa placed her hands on her hips and fixed him with her darkest scowl. To his credit, Jon flinched. “Take advantage of me? Am I not an adult, Jon? Are _my_  wants not important?”

“Yes, of course, Sansa,” Jon quickly amended. “That’s not what I meant. I… I didn’t think it’d be right. And besides, you never really shown any interest.” He shrugged but there was a smile on his face now. A bit self-deprecating, a bit smug, and _all Jon_. When had Sansa become so well-versed in his smiles? 

“You never really gave me a chance,” Sansa countered with a similar shrug. “You just avoided me.” In a smaller voice, she admitted. “I hated you because I thought you hated me.”   


Suddenly his warm hands were cupping her face. “Sansa, I could never hate you. Not even when you threw your shoe at my head.” She chuckled and his smile grew. “So do you still hate me?” 

“I don’t know,” Sansa said. “Depends on how much longer it’ll take for you to kiss me again.”   


Jon laughed, a sound that warmed every inch of her rain-soaked body, and kissed her. This time, it _was_ slow but so far from unfeeling. 

It was, in retrospect, this kiss that made Sansa fall in love with him, but she wouldn’t know that for many months to come.  


End file.
